Dispatch from the Heartland, Part II

There are people back in dear, warm(ish) Seattle who wax eloquent about the midwest: The values, the neighborliness, the slow pace of living.

Those people, for the record, are full of shit.

Oh, there are exceptions, I suppose. For instance, I bought a FABULOUS Falstaff beer sign. It needed a new bulb, so I went to an electrical place, and they gave me the bulb and starter for free, which I have to admit was cool of them. And the guy at the Honda place, where I took the care for a tune-up, couldn't be nicer about mom.

But you get as many - or more - rude drivers and blank stares here than you do in Seattle. And people smoke everywhere, and litter like there's no tomorrow.

Right now, everyone is all worked up about some new drug called "wet". Some guy who was high on "wet" went running around an Omaha neighborhood naked, busting into places and making everyone very uncomfortable. Back in Seattle, that's called Saturday Night, but here the cops killed him.

Oh well, life goes on for us clothed individuals: Lots of laundry and basement cleaning, as well as trying to figure out the DAMN humidifier on the furnace. This house is so dry that if it weren't so cold here, it would probably spontaneously combust.

Oh, and by the way, I saw Sylvia's twin today. She works behind the counter at the Community of Christ thrift shop, where the Western Auto used to be.